Passers. Who are they? The common picture of the city is filled with them. Their voices, gestures, coats, suits, scarves, umbrellas, high heels, cigarette smoke, their morning сoffee. They bring a life into the cities. Each of them has his own story.It seems like you are reading their thoughts while gazing into the passing faces.
You see them every day. As if you have always known them. Thousands of passers are rushing to somewhere. Every morning they start up the day, they come out on the streets in a lunch time, in the evening they go home in a subways and cars to become special for somebody again. Urban dogs and birds are scurrying in the bustle of the city whirl. City is alive. They are its breath. (Even at night). Look closer. What do you see? You are one of them.